Michael had just been awake for an hour or so, but already the environment had changed. quieter. warmer. He was still feeble and pale, laying on his pillows, but he was staring up at me with that softness that makes the air tremble.

Edwin had warned him not to move. If he tried, Maya had threatened. Neither caution was important. Michael was his name. He was unyielding. However, his obstinacy was neither defensive nor acerbic this time. It was mild.

With my hands folded, I appeared to be ...